And if he had got over Hope, would he really be interested in Hanna?
Of course he wouldn’t.
And even if he were, was she interested in him?
Russell had returned shortly after with that gorgeous smile still in place, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, and his grey linen jacket slung over one broad shoulder. He carried two fold up chairs in one hand, and a fold up table in the other, and had asked if she would like to sit.
‘I’d love to,’ she had replied, with just the merest glance in Hope’s direction.
They had chatted and laughed for what seemed like just a few minutes but in reality was almost an hour, and then, all too soon, Griff and Grace had come to join them, and the rest of the afternoon had flown.
Griff and Grace had finally left, and were walking away hand in hand and staring into one another’s eyes, and Russell had said, somewhat wistfully, ‘I can only imagine what it must feel like being as in love as those two are.’
Hanna had assumed he must be thinking about Hope and wishing that he and Hope could’ve been like Griff and Grace. And that’s when Hanna had had her epiphany.
She had looked at Russell as a slight breeze had lifted strands of his golden blond hair away from his left temple, and she had found herself wishing that he might look at her the way Griff looked at Grace.
It had taken her so much by surprise that she had sat bolt upright, mumbled something inaudible about not being able to choose with whom she fell in love, and had thankfully been rescued by none other than Hope herself who had come back, this time alone, to ask Hanna about one of her paintings that Tom had spotted hanging in The Royal Oak.
‘Sorry to barge in,’ Hope had said, looking a little awkward as she had glanced at Russell, ‘but I wanted to ask if you might be free later, Hanna, when this has finished. Tom’s seen a painting of yours in the pub, and he absolutely loves it. I wondered if you might have something similar in your studio. Or if not, whether you might paint something like it? I want to give it to him as a surprise gift.’
‘Erm. Of course. Yes,’ said Hanna, needing to get away from Russell before she said something stupid. ‘I was just thinking it’stime I left, so I’m free now, if you are.’ She stood up so fast her chair fell over.
Russell stood up too, like the perfect gentleman he was. ‘You’re leaving?’ he asked, looking her in the eye before bending down and picking up the chair.
‘It’s late,’ Hanna said, even though it wasn’t. ‘Erm. I have things I need to do. Sorry. But thank you for a lovely afternoon. I’ve … I’ve really enjoyed it.’
‘Me too,’ said Russell. ‘Thank you for your company.’ He gave an odd little bow as he stood there, smiling. Although the smile seemed a little less dazzling.
‘If you’re busy,’ Hope said, ‘we can do it another time.’
‘No!’ Hanna shrieked. ‘Erm. Now is fine. Goodbye Russell.’
That was the day she had realised she was head over heels in love with Russell Betancourt.
And that was the last time she had seen him.
Until now.
That dazzling smile firmly in place as he stood right in front of her on the doorstep of Catkin Cottage.
